(no subject)

Sometimes I like to pretend I'm whole again thanks to chemicals.

Thank you chemicals.

Chemicals, don't make me sick again
I'm always so dubious of your intent
Like I can't afford to replace what you've spent

Chemicals, don't flatten my mind
Chemicals, don't mess me up this time
Know you bait me way more than you should
And it's just like you to hurt me when I'm feeling good

Come on chemicals

(no subject)

The motor on my bike is shot.

The tail lights are out on my car.

I no longer have health insurance.

My HOA wants $1000 from me because they are over budget.

The job search is shit.

Disability is up in less than 2 months.

And all I have in my fridge is bud light.

Surly, this is proof that God is a sadist.

(no subject)

It occured to me today that I don't remember what it feels like for my hands to not be in pain. It's been well over a year now that my chronic hand/wrist/arm pain started and has yet to stop. It's only during moments like this where I am drunk enough to be numb that I can pretend to be whole again.

I have officially accepted that I am fucked in the ass. Hardcore. They didn't even use lube. Fuckers.
  • Current Mood
    crushed crushed

(no subject)


Tonight I saw a dead 4 year old girl laying in the dirt between the highway and the off-ramp. It took 5 mins of searching by a group of bystanders for her after she was thrown from the minivan she was riding in. The mother lay in the road having been dragged out of the wreck alive, but not moving. The van lay on its side in the middle of the highway still containing the trapped father who could do nothing but weep for his daughter no one could find.

Later I was asked to help at the car that jumped the center divider into the lane I had been driving in. I held a stretcher which a girl who could not move her legs was put on to. A CHP officer then asked me to talk to the driver of the car for a few mins to help keep him conscious. Despite my best efforts, the only thing I could say was that everything is going to be alright.

(no subject)

Tonight I determined that we only search for meaning and purpose in life after we can't find true long-term happiness. I haven't yet figured out if this is a good or bad thing.

(no subject)

It’s been forever since I have bothered to write anything in here so I figured I would write another rambling which should probably be alcohol induced so I have an excuse when people get weirded out or offended.

Now that I’ve graduated, most of my time has gone into working. It’s like taking all the workaholic moments of school and condensing them into 5 day intervals. On the bright side, I have now been hired on full time and am actually earning real money for the first time in my life. Like previous influxes of money, I still don’t really know what to do with it though. Not to say I’m earning so much that I can’t figure out how to spend it all… it’s just… you know… I don’t really care about shit. The most personal satisfaction I get from my job is in the knowledge that they thought I was worth hiring right out of college at 22 which is a rather big achievement in the game industry. I know it was pure luck that I got the initial internship, but after 3 months they still thought I was worth keeping around… and not even in some sort of lowly slave monkey sorta way but as a full time developer. I think that’s pretty rad. It’s the embodiment of all those childhood dreams and all that jazz.

I’ve also had a few minor personal revelations, one of which is that I believe I have developed the ability of the last 4 years of my life to control whether I fall in love or not. On the surface, this seems like a good thing... a mechanism to prevent a number of unfortunate painful mishaps that come about in the interactions of bored college-aged folk looking for a good time. In this, it has worked rather well. Unfortunately, I have concluded that love was never intended to be a choice. If it is, it’s not really love at all any longer but rather duty that you try to convince yourself is pleasurable.

I also want everyone to know that everything that I have ever done for others has been, to some extend, for selfish self-serving reasons. I just wanted to put that out there in case there are those who still labor under the illusion that I am somehow a fundamentally good or caring person. I’m not. Not to say that I don’t genuinely care about people. In fact I do very much so. It’s just that I want to clarify there is always a “because…” or “but…” after the sentence “I care about you”. Why do I feel the need to stress this to others? The first reason is that being honest with others makes it easier to be honest with myself (not that I have ever had a problem with self-deprecation in the past). The second is that I believe that everyone is the same way though I have no preconceptions that I will somehow convince everyone that this is true. Thirdly, I want to go to sleep at night knowing the friends I do have, are friends knowing full well who and what I am.

And with that, I say g’night and farewell. Going to bed to get up for work still sucks. *grumble*